


Dáil

by HunterPeverell



Series: A Chuisle Mo Chroí [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Steve Rogers, BAMF Steve Rogers, Long-Suffering Bucky Barnes, M/M, Steve Rogers is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 07:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11179809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterPeverell/pseuds/HunterPeverell
Summary: Stella's new friends: a devastatingly handsome, kind-hearted boy and his loud, angry companion.Well, she hadn't expected this.





	Dáil

**Author's Note:**

> Hey-o! Sorry it's been a while--I've been busy with college and Adulting (tm) stuff. But I'm working on a few fics and as I've gotten this one done, I figured I might as well post it. There may or may not be a few more in this series--we'll see how much I write. I also have no idea how good this story is, but I felt bad not posting anything in months.  
> Please enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own a Harry Potter umbrella (sad) and likewise I don't own the MCU and the characters within.  
> Title means “A coming together, a consultative gathering” in Irish (please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a flirt. He grinned at the baristas and winked at his classmates and complimented anyone who would stand still for long enough.

Stella knew she didn't have a hope in Hell with a guy like Bucky, but that didn't mean she didn't look and wish.

She knew that Bucky laughed like he had nothing to hold back. She knew he genuinely meant his compliments, could see the truth of his words in his eyes. She knew that when someone wanted to talk, he focused on them completely and utterly, as if there was no place he would rather be.

She also knew who his best friend was.

Steve Rogers was loud. She was hesitant to call him a bully, because he was small and because Bucky obviously liked him, but Steve picked fights and often came out okay, somehow. He seemed angry every time she looked at him, and how a guy like Bucky could stand being around a guy like Steve Rogers was a complete mystery to her. She didn't like him as much as Bucky—he was so _much_. She didn't know how to handle him. He was into politics and the damage superheroes left behind and the reformation of the education system and a dozen other things Stella couldn't keep track of.

He once shoved a flyer in her hand, a picture of a wrecked building on it, and told her, “Stark should be thrown in jail and left to rot. Cast your vote.” Then he glared at her like he was personally judging her soul and found it wanting. Stella fled as fast as she could.

But the thing was, she couldn't find Bucky without Steve, really. If Bucky was heading to his history courses, Steve strode right next to him. If Bucky was at the pizzeria in town, Steve had the seat next to him. If Bucky was loitering about the UC, Steve was right there beside him.

She didn't understand it. She didn't understand what an incredible, caring human being like Bucky saw in a loud, demanding person like Steve Rogers.

She watched anyways. Bucky was magnetic—she couldn't tear her eyes away.

****

Stella sat at a table tucked away in a corner. She was supposed to meet Yolanda from her sociology class, but Yolanda was running late.

She tapped the side of her glass and gazed around, feeling out of place in the crowded bar. A frat boy was singing loudly (but somewhat in-tune) on a table a few yards away while his buddies and their girlfriends cheered him on. On the other side of the bar, a group of girls—freshmen? Or young-looking seniors—were playing a game of darts.

Stella checked her phone—Yolanda was now thirty minutes late. Ugh.

“Hey.”

Stella started, squeaked, and looked up to see Barry. He was her ex and someone she avoided like the plague. Tall and broad, with dark hair and green eyes narrowed in what threatened to become a glare, his charismatic charm and winning smile had drawn her hopelessly in hook, line, and sinker.

“Um, hi,” Stella managed.

“You busy?” Barry asked, swinging down across from Stella. She tried not to flinch.

“Yes, actually,” she said.

“'Cause I been watching you, and you been all alone for twenty minutes.” Barry leered. Stella struggled to remember why she had dated him in the first place. Something about his smile. And the fact that he had owned a motorbike.

“I'm meeting someone for class,” she replies stiffly. “Please leave.”

“I don't think so—” Barry began before someone interrupted him.

“She asked you to leave her alone.”

Stella's eyes jumped to the newcomer. It was Steve Rogers, standing there with his fists balled and a glare so potent Stella wanted to shrink away from it.

“This ain't your problem,” Barry said.

“It ain't?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because making sure someone is safe and okay sure seems like something I ought to do my best to help with.”

Barry stood and towered over Steve who, to his credit, didn't back down.

“You're picking with the wrong guy, kid,” Barry warned.

Steve let out a brutal laugh before saying again, “You sure? 'Causes she's asked nicely, now I'm gonna say—get the fuck outta here. _Now._ ”

Barry shook his head, a smug grin on his face, but before he could do anything Steve kicked him in the nuts. Barry shouted and bent over just in time for Steve to send a hook to his throat. Now gasping and wheezing, unable to breathe, the fight left her ex and he staggered away, clutching his balls.

Bucky appeared just in time to shove Barry out of his way as he strode to Steve, causing Barry to fall into the wall.

Steve turned to Bucky, who looked mildly concerned.

“What was it this time?” Bucky asked.

“Pickin' on her.” Steve jerked his head in Stella's direction.

“'Course,” Bucky muttered. Steve and Bucky looked at her.

“You okay?” Steve asked, less aggressively than he had with the flyers. She was beginning to understand that was just how he talked.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. Then, “Thank you.”

Steve's eyes softened. “It's cool. You gonna be okay?”

Stella nodded, then shook her head.

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances.

“Want us to sit with you?” Bucky offered.

“Please,” she whispered, which was how she found herself watching Bucky and Steve truly interact, and it was like nothing she had ever seen before.

They snarked and sassed one another, their easy banter doing more to put her at ease than seeing Barry get kicked in the nuts. Sometimes they slipped into a foreign tongue she couldn't understand, but it was never for long.

When Yolanda finally showed up, and hour and ten minutes late, apologizing profusely, it was to see Stella sitting with the infamous duo, discussing Irish mythology.

Stella wished she could have gotten a picture of Yolanda's expression.

****

Stella started hanging out around Steve and Bucky after that.

Sometimes they hung out in the UC where she learned they people watched while they did their homework. Their preferred bar was a small place a few blocks from the campus that was more her speed and less Barry’s. They had been in the same bar as her that night because of a poetry reading Bucky had wanted to attend.

“Hey, a ghrá, want more beer?” Steve asked. Bucky nodded, but when Steve looked at Stella, she shook her head, motioning to her still almost-full glass.

Steve scooted back away from the table and slipped over to the bar, leaving Bucky sitting easy in his chair and Stella awkwardly fidgeting.

“He’s, uh, different,” she said at last. She had only been hanging out with them for a week, now, and she could see that her idea of Steve as a bully couldn’t be further from the truth.

Bucky snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. Little punk doesn’t know how to stop.”

Stella saw something, something she had missed before. The way his eyes softened, the way his lips twitched, the way his entire body seemed to _gentle._

Stomach sinking, she had a feeling Bucky was off the market.

Then Bucky looked over at the bar, where the bartender—a wiry guy maybe Bucky’s height with scraggy stubble and thick glasses—was flirting obviously with Steve, who didn’t seem to notice.

“You gotta be fucking shitting me,” Bucky said, standing up. Stella immediately felt nervous, something Bucky caught onto.

“Hey now,” he said. “I ain’t gonna do anything, Stell. Just gonna get my idiot.”

Stella nodded, feeling timid, and watched Bucky approach the bar. They were seated close enough that she could hear the conversation, especially since Bucky wasn’t bothering to keep his voice down.

“Hey Steve, you got the drinks?”

“Bucky, hey,” Steve said. He didn’t look surprised to see Bucky there, just twisted to look Bucky in the eye. The bartender looked shocked.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky said. “You still don’t get flirting when it’s hitting you in the face, do you?”

Steve blinked and shot the bartender a glace out of the corner of his eye before refocusing on Bucky. “…No. He was flirting?”

“Yep,” Bucky replied, popping the ‘p’.

The bartender looked desperate to escape, now. Steve and Bucky’s drinks were on the counter.

“Oh,” Steve said, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Well that’s … nice.”

Bucky laughed and took Steve’s hand, grabbing his drink while Steve grabbed his. Bucky offered the bartender a friendly wink while Steve ducked his head, sticking close to Bucky’s side.

Then, without looking back, they headed back to Stella.

 _Definitely off the market_ , Stella thought.

****

The thing was, though, that is was really hard to tell that Steve and Bucky were a couple. There was no kissing, no making gooey eyes at each other. Even when Yolanda and Jimmy joined their motley group, it wasn’t obvious. Yolanda even tried to ask Bucky out before Stella dissuaded her.

There were no cues. None of the usual signs that screamed, _COUPLE._

Then the LGBT+ group tried to recruit them.

They all supported the community, and were willing to join the group to help raise awareness and fundraise.

Steve and Bucky showed up to the meeting uninvited and plopped down on a beanbag.

There was a lot of hushed conversations during that meeting as people shot Steve and Bucky—though mostly fight-picking Steve—wary and curious looks.

“What are they doing here? Are they together?” one girl—Tracy? —asked Stella.

“I guess?” Stella said. “I mean, they’re definitely together.”

Stella found them before they left.

“You’re together, right?” she asked. “I’m not just seeing things?”

“We’re together,” Bucky said easily.

Stella hummed. “You don’t—I mean. You don’t—”

“Act like it,” Bucky supplied.

Stella blushed.

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “We’re both ace, Stella. That’s why you ain’t getting the normal vibes.”

Stella felt horrible that it had to be spelled out for her. It must have shown on her face because Steve’s near-permanent glare disappeared.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out and gently taking her hand. “It’s okay, Stell. It’s okay.”

Stella nodded and watched them walk out the room, hand in hand in a casual, intimate way Stella had only seen in movies before, heads bent to one another and each step part of the same rhythm.

She wondered if that was what real-life love looked like.


End file.
